


oh lord, oh lord, what have i done

by spangel



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, Oh Boy!!!!!!!!! What is this, POV Second Person, prose poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spangel/pseuds/spangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You keep coming back to this and every time you see him it’s all just<br/>painful, because you can’t<br/>do this again. The whole “love” thing. It only ends<br/>like this:<br/>with a death, or a broken heart, or a heart<br/>ripped right out of a body and eaten, and you thought<br/>you heart was eaten, chewed up and shredded and unrecognizable, but here you are, with a new heart and a new love and<br/>some boiling sorrow - you think<br/>this should be magical, but it only<br/>stings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh lord, oh lord, what have i done

 i. There are no stories written for people like you - the only love stories

that they can show on the screens remind you of

the mortality in bones. Sometimes there are stories where

everyone survives and everyone

is reborn in-and-out of purity as abominations, half-alive

mangled things straight out of the nightmares you could have had if you weren't

so used to this, so used to

being an abomination -- that's why these

stories of abominations are okay, because in everyone's eyes, you are no better, and all of these stories

always have fucking happy endings and for you it's just like

letters that are slowly fade away, carved initials in the skins of young mundane lovers who

have stories written about them and don't know about mortality or abominations. They never

love you back, these monsters

underneath the bed that you will never see as

monsters because

you love them, and maybe that's it -

your hands curling around the arms of the chair, your hands

longing for a touch like that 

again

-

fuck, maybe that's it: your love isn't

gentle. You fall in love and it's like

an ocean. You fall asleep in 

this water and you wake up tainted. You promise yourself that you will never love again, because

if you love you will drown,

and you'll just be exposed, and the screens can't 

show the kind of vulnerability that comes with something like that:

your ocean swallowing you like

a monster that you can only see as a monster, something with

talons. Something

with a misleading light, You walk into the light, and then

you drown. Your vulnerability like

a warning light, flashing in the dark night.  _Don't hit me, I'm here._ You can hold your breath

for five minutes. You've had a lot of time to practice. 

(Never, never again.)

 

ii. You meet him and he smiles at you -  _Alec -_ and you keep repeating his name

over and over in your mind like a fucking

prayer. You meet him and he takes your hand and you  _feel_ it - god, you Feel it - and then

he looks away and you're still repeating that name over and over again, like he will

find the bravery to look at you again if you say his name and say his name and

say his name

and -

You have more important things

to focus on.

 

 

iii. 

You keep coming back to this and every time you see him it’s all just

painful, because you can’t

do this again. The whole “love” thing. It only ends

like this:

with a death, or a broken heart, or a heart

ripped right out of a body and eaten, and you thought

you heart was eaten, chewed up and shredded and unrecognizable, but here you are, with a new heart and a new love and  
some boiling sorrow - you think

this should be magical, but it only

stings.

 

(This isn't how it should be, and it's fucking

ridiculous, how much he can make

you feel. It's a feeling that

would be painful if it was caused by any other person, but Alec Lightwood --

somehow, this is different.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

iv. So you're knee-deep in this ocean now, this ocean of

vulnerability where the only stories that they show are

dark things that people swallow because they can't

deal with their lives, and how much it hurts

to love, or lust, or whatever it is that you feel for him.

You're ready to let it take you,

you're already drowning and

falling in love with the water, but  —

something is wrong, something is just

so wrong here. Something like this: there's 

someone else. Something like this: you were

stupid enough to actually think

this would go somewhere, you were stupid enough to think

that Alexander Lightwood could pull you 

out of the water, that you could

make a new story with him. Something like this: you should

have seen it coming — it's an animal chasing you because it is

starving and starving and

starving, it's an animal 

pinning you down and whispering  _you're a fool_ with a mouth 

open wide, wide, wide.  

"Goodbye, Alexander," and you only want his happiness, but this isn't it, this won't make him happy, and you're still

reciting  _Alexander_ in your mind like a 

goddamn prayer.

 

v. You've tried and tried and tried and —

God, you're just so fucking tired

of this whole thing. Ragnor is dead and Alec

is getting married, and you've endured and you

can get through this. That doesn't stop it from hurting, that doesn't

stop all of it from opening up wounds like you are —

you are —

like you are something with skin soft enough

to be torn open. It just stings, and that's

the problem. You can pull yourself

out of this ocean.  It has to stop.

 

 

vi.

 

This is your last

effort and you're ready for it all to crumble and fall like

something that just has to be demolished because it's  _time,_ and he's

staring at you and you're ready for him 

to send you away.  _Tell me that_

_you love her._ But his hands are grabbing

you like you will crumble

and fall if he lets go, and the kiss is like

something that could be called a prayer, like this:

"fuck, it hurts so much, and here I am saying

your name over and over like you're some sort of forgotten

religion."

He pulls away and you feel something in your chest

that's almost like a heart. Beating, beating, beating, and he kisses you again and you finally 

have something to hold onto.

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Oh lord, oh lord, what have I done?   
> I've fallen in love with a man on the run  
> Oh Lord, Oh Lord, he’s somewhere between  
> A hangman’s knot, and three mouths to feed  
> There wasn’t a wrong or a right he could choose  
> He did what he had to do  
> Oh he did what he had to do" - Devil's Backbone, The Civil Wars
> 
> hi i don't know what this is and it's probably really ooc because i've Never written anything for this fandom before so i'm sorry for this whole disastrous thing lol


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